old photos and coffee stains
by fixing a heart
Summary: it's like they have forever at their very fingertips. or, the next generation in 33 ways
1. lucylorcan

**This is for the Captaining the Next-Gen Armada: 33 non-cousincest het next-gen pairings mixed with a whole bunch of insanity:)**

* * *

It started when it ended. Or, rather, when she gave up. Lucy Weasley gave up on magic mid-way through her time at Hogwarts, age fifteen.

He watched her fall apart starting a year earlier, and sometimes he snuck into her Common Room in the late hours of the night and watched her magic the bar and mirrors in the corner. She would pirouette and arabesque like it was the only thing holding to the earth, and it was.

Around four in the morning she would turn the already soft and quiet music to a stop and slip up to her dorm to put her pale pink ballet slippers in her trunk after kissing him lightly on the cheek.

;-;

She snaps in potions. She got two hours of sleep the night before, and she nearly collapses in the hallway on the way to the dungeons. He is walking next to her (he's always by her side) when she stumbles, so he steadies her and pushes her strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Lucy, are you-"

"Fine. Just…" she yawns, "tired."

"Do you want go back to your dorm, or go see Madame Chang? She would let you lay down for a while."

"I'm fine, Lorcan, really."

They walk slowly to the dungeons before taking their side-by-side seats.

;-;

She stirs the potions clockwise once, counter-clockwise six times and clockwise once again. She adds six porcupine quills and receives yesterday's potion grade (she's failed again) and feels tears forming in her Weasley blue eyes.

"Lucy, are you…okay? Are you sure you don't want to see Madame Chang?"

She shakes her head.

Professor Slughorn calls her up to the front to "have a word" and leads her out of the classroom.

"Are you alright, Miss Weasley? You seem…off."

"I…" she sniffles uncertainly. "I'm fine." She looks up at her professor without meeting his eyes.

"Miss Weasley… what's wrong?" he asks her gently.

"It's nothing, honestly. I just…I'm tired."

"Hmmm. I happen to know Headmistress McGonagall is out of her office at the present time. It might be of use to you to talk to one of the portraits there, he might know how to help you. The password's _Albus_."

Her eyes finally reach his, and he adds, "It's alright."

So she runs, her hair and robes blowing behind her.

;-;

"I'm just…so lost. I'm not fit to study magic, Professor. I'm failing every class, and I'm not getting any sleep because I've been dancing, and I don't have any friends except for Lorcan (Scamander, you know) and my family, save my aunts and uncles, dad (but hardly), but they have to pretend they like me, and most of my cousins ignore me, except Albus, because I'm not good enough for the rest of them." She's crying full out now, tears constantly dripping off the end of her nose. "Are there tissues in the office, Professor Dumbledore?"

The man in the portrait chuckles softly. "Yes, Lucy. Right over- no, other side…yes."

"Thanks, sir," she snuffles. The small girl sits in the Headmistress's chair, as it is closest to portrait.

"Not trouble at all. Now…you're lost." He thinks a moment. "You mentioned ballet in the Common Room?"

"Yes," she confesses meekly. "When everyone's gone to sleep I… go to the Common Room and conjure up a bar and a mirror, and sometimes a book on ballet instruction to practice. My mum was a Muggle dancer, see."

"I'm sure she was lovely."

"She was, she danced with so much grace and poise, it's like she was born to dance, and I always thought I was as well. She enrolled me in ballet when I was young, but since she…passed and I came to Hogwarts I haven't gone to a class and I miss it so much, but mostly I just miss her."

She watches as a lone tear rolls down his face, blurring into the silver-gray of his beard. "Do you want to keep studying magic?"

"Sir?"

"You don't have to stay here, if you don't feel that you belong. If your heart is telling you to dance, dance."

"I don't…belong here. I was born to dance, I think. But…the only person who understands is Lorcan."

"He will help you. I know it."

"Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Lucy."

;-;

"You're doing _what_?"

"Lor, I'm not fit to study magic. You watch me dance. It was my whole life, and it still is. I can't stay here."

"What were you planning on doing in the Muggle world? You're not of age, you can't pay for professional lessons without the support of your family, and you know it."

"Albus and James reluctantly agreed to help me pay and Al says I can stay with him and get a part-time job. I'll be fine."

"You won't. You know how irresponsible Albus is."

"He's not."

"Fine. He's responsible. But when you run out of food or money or whatever, don't come crying to me."

"Fine. Fine!" She yells shortly, tears burning a warpath down her cheeks.

;-;

"Umm, if Lorcan is here and gets this message, tell him to call me back, please." Delete.

"Please, Lorcan, if you're in London, stop by Al's…or the studio, I just-just need to talk to you." Delete.

"I miss you." A finger pauses over the delete button before a loud crack of Apparation fills the air, the words from her latest message replaying in his mind.

;-;

"Is Lucy Weasley here?"

The woman at the front desk looks up, annoyed. "First room on the left."

He thanks her graciously before taking off in a sprint.

The door to the studio bursts open, and loud music (_The Nutcracker_) and the scent of sweat fill the hallway. "Lucy!"

The music is stopped abruptly, and the instructor stops to glare at him and then at Lucy.

"May I…speak to Lucy for a moment?"

;-;

He's almost sure his claps and cheering are the loudest of everyone's, but it hardly matters.

;-;

When she emerges in her pale pink leotard and ballet slippers, he sweeps her up in his arms, and silences her laughing protests with a gentle kiss.

"You came," she says in awe.

"How could I not come to your first real performance? You had the starring role."

She laughs. "Not exactly."

"And I love you. That's why I came."

"And I love you, too."

;-;

So maybe it didn't start at the end, it started at the beginning.

* * *

**this will probably be updated fairly infrequently for August, as I'll be starting Camp NaNoWriMo:)**


	2. roseteddy

**pairing:** roseteddy

**words:** 1024

* * *

You think it's weird that Rose has an awful habit of chewing gum in the middle of Transfiguration because, you know for a fact, that Rose hates chewing gum. And when she gets a detention for it, she doesn't bat an eye.

You're not quite sure what to think of it. She knows you'll be monitoring her detention, and the fact that you'll give her the detention in the first place and what in Merlin's name is so special about you. You're just Teddy. Just Teddy.

/

Rose saunters into her second detention of the week holding a cigarette of tightly it's like an extension of her right hand. She stops in the doorway to your classroom and takes a long drag while you stare at her, dumbfounded.

This is Rose Weasley we're talking about. Just last year at the annual start of term dinner, you heard her mother praising her, saying she was the only Weasley cousin who'd never had detention.

(You know this is true. You checked.)

And then you start teaching, and she's here at least twice a week. What's lost on you is why. It's not particularly exciting; most of the time she helps you sort through old spellbooks and she watches you plan lessons and practice charms so you have them down for your next class.  
And, after all, you're just Teddy.

"Teddy," Rose greets, watching her cigarette crumple to ashes as she finishes a quick spell.

"Rose, what—"

You stop mid-sentence because you have no idea where this is going anymore."Come in."

You can't help but notice she's barefoot, and she left a pair of too tall hooker-esque heels outside your door. "Your shoes," you say, before you can stop yourself.

"Is there a rule about no shoes?" She asks tiredly, and it dawns on you that she really looks exhausted.

There is a rule, but you say, "No, but Hogwarts has a no smoking policy."

If looks could kill, you think, you wouldn't have a pulse.

You walk over to the front of the classroom and take a seat at your desk. You gesture for her to take a seat in a desk near you and she hesitates, but goes.

"You've had a lot of detentions this year, Rose."

She nods slowly.

"I don't get it," you admit. "I checked your record. They're all for me."

Rose bites her lip. "Okay."

"What's going on here?" You ask her gently.

You've known Rose since the day she was born and you've never seen her as vulnerable as she looks right now. You've been there through the boggart under the bed, her older cousins leaving for Hogwarts, her first breakup... But today she could shatter into a million pieces.

Rose has been invincible since day one and she's finally crumbling under the pressure of her parents and her last name, you think.

"There's something I need to tell you, Teddy." Her head is on her desk. She mutters something under her breath and a cigarette appears out of thin air. She lights it with the tip of her wand and takes another long drag.

You don't say anything. This is hard for her, you note. What could she be hiding? What is this secret that is breaking her from the inside out?

She's pregnant, maybe. Or she's addicted to some awful drug that's made her hide her feelings and everything that could possibly go through her head from everyone. Or—

"I'm in love with you."

/

Somehow, these words are worse than Rose being pregnant or on drugs or any combination of anything she could ever tell you.

/

Rose's hand flies to her mouth, and she throws the cigarette behind her and it smolders out. She packs up her things and runs out, leaving you confused and... confused.

/

Rose keeps chewing gum in your class, but you ignore it like she ignores you. She is supposed to graduate in two months and it's been a month since she confessed and they still haven't spoken.

Her Transfiguration grade has slipped because she refuses any help anyone could offer.

You lie awake, thinking about her. She's Rose and you grew up with her and you don't even know what to do about her anymore because she's your student and frankly, that's illegal. Not that Rose cares.

She's sunk down lower. Lower than low, and he wonders if there really is a drug. She's constantly chewing gum now, save for mealtimes. Her eyes are bloodshot but you don't think she's been drinking. Or, you hope not.

/

She finally is forced to serve a detention with you when another student is chewing gum and you call him out on it and not Rose and everyone sees that so you finally snap and tell she has to come to your office on Saturday morning.

/

She walks in slowly without a word. You pull an ashtray from your desk and magics a chair right up to your desk. You light a cigarette and give it to her before pulling out another one from the pack for yourself. If she's surprised, she doesn't show it.  
You both take a long drag and Rose sets it lightly in the tray. She grabs a bottle from her bag and takes a log sip. You know it burns her throat, but she acts like it's just water, but you know better.  
"Vodka, Rose?"

She looks you straight in the eyes. "I don't know what happened to me."  
You don't know what to say. You reach onto the desk and grab the bottle from her. You take a swig—

Crash.

"What the hell, Teddy?"

"You're done, Rose."

There's a long pause, and you're not sure if it's comfortable or the most awkward thing in the world.

"I can't be with you if half of your life is devoted to drinking," you say, and then you realize there's no going back.

Rose raises her head slowly. "Wha—What?"

"I want to… I want to be with you, Rose."

And you don't even taste the alcohol and cigarettes on her breath when her lips crash onto yours.

* * *

**author's note:** please do not favorite/follow without a review, and if you could, review anyways?


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